UnitedDivided
by musicnotes093
Summary: AU. Twenty-two year old Chase is happy with his life. Twenty-one year old Bree is happy with her life. Eighteen year-old Leo is happy with his life. Six year-old Adam is happy with his life. Thirty-two year old Marcus is happy with his life. (Except he's not, and they're not. It's all just a lie.) Chase-centric. One-shot.


**Title:** _"_ _United/Divided"_

 **Rating:** upped to low M, only because I'm paranoid

 **Genre:** angst, drama

 **Characters:** Chase as main, 'Spike', Donald, Tasha, and the others are also here

 **Pairing(s):** Spike/OC, Donald/Tasha, hints of Chase/Caitlin, Bree/OC and Leo/Janelle

 **Summary:** AU. Twenty-two year old Chase is happy with his life. Twenty-one year old Bree is happy with her life. Eighteen year-old Leo is happy with his life. Six year-old Adam is happy with his life. Thirty-two year old Marcus is happy with his life. (Except he's not, and they're not. It's all just a lie.) Chase-centric. One-shot.

 **Notes:** After scrolling through the archives and seeing quite a few Chase-and-Spike-as-twins stories, the gears in the ol' noggin started turning. Of course, it led me straight to a dark idea. An opinion regarding the Commando App (which I still hold) combined with a research I did years ago for another story brought this to life.

It's my first Chase-centric story, so let's see how it goes.

 **WARNING:** Dark, dark, dark. Please be cautious. There are mentions of alcohol, drugs, sexual assault (non-graphic, honestly just a mention), violence (non-graphic, also just a mention), self-harm, and abuse of children. There's also death and another thing I cannot reveal until later.

* * *

Chase awoke to someone tripping over his foot.

"Oh. I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Lifting his head from the floor, it quickly became apparent to him that he was not in his room. However, the familiar posters of different indie rock bands decorating the walls assured him that he was somewhere safe. He needed not worry.

He rubbed his eyes with a yawn as he sat up. What day was it? What time? Consulting the black and white clock by the door, he saw that it was 9:01 AM on a Saturday. _I lost a few hours._ Checking his outfit, he found a clue to why that was so. He frowned. "Adam?" he asked, staring at the iconic Superman logo on his shirt.

Chad—or Spike, as their parents and he called him in private—looked at him from his reflection in the mirror. "Yeah," he said with a grin.

Chase huffed. "I wish he would stop playing me like this," he muttered.

"Oh, come on. This one isn't too bad," Chad tried to encourage him. "This is better than the ice cream incident. Remember?"

The ice cream incident, where tubs and tubs of ice cream were hidden in his closet and eventually melted by the heat of summer. He was still cleaning up the mess that had caused. How could he forget? "You didn't miss plans, did you?" he asked instead.

"No. Actually, Zach cancelled rehearsals. He said his neighbors asked if we can postpone because their grandkids are coming to visit." He chuckled. "He likes the couple because they're nice to him, so he said okay. We're on break until next weekend."

Chase nodded. He observed in silence as his twin brother resumed checking his appearance in the mirror. He smirked when Chad pushed back the few stray strands of hair from his forehead. He still had to get used to his brother not having his hair spiked up. That was how he got the nickname anyways, his then preferred hairstyle. He had liked it since they were little until recently, when he seemed to have decided that he was too old for it.

The smirk on his lips evaporated. He missed that moment when his brother decided that. Hopefully he wouldn't miss any more important life events like that one. "Are you seeing Aubrey today?" he asked his brother.

Chad grinned. "Yeah. We're going on a half-day date, actually," he said. "She has one of her makeup events to go to tomorrow, so she's leaving for Texas tonight. She said she wants to spend some time with me first, though." He chuckled. "She's so sweet. She was worried she'd miss our last performance. She really want to be there."

"That girl really loves you."

"That she does. And you know what's interesting? She's the only girl who has ever made me wonder why."

Chase smiled. Chad had only had two girlfriends before, but he would agree that Aubrey was much more different than the other two. She was kinder and much more understanding. That, he could attest to. "If only there were more girls like her," he commented in slight dismay.

Chad turned then quirked his brows at him.

Chase stared blankly. "What?"

Chad smirked then resumed gathering the things he needed. "You know, there _is_ a girl who cares a lot about you," he said. "You just haven't given her the time of day."

Chase's brows furrowed as he wondered what his brother meant. Then—"Who, Caitlin? You can't be serious. She's my friend."

"Yeah, because you keep friendzoning her." When Chase only shook his head (insistently and denyingly so, if he may add), Chad asked, "What's wrong with her? She's cute, she's adorably energetic sometimes. She's nice. _Smart._ "

"So?"

"'So'? Dude! What about this is not adding up to you?"

"Those things don't mean we should be together."

Chad thought about it then shrugged. "You're right," he said. "So, I guess the question I should ask is: Why do you think you shouldn't be together?"

Chase tried to come up with something, anything, but failed. "Because," he confessed, "besides being my friend, she's also Bree's best friend. What would Bree think when she finds out I decided to date her best friend? Leo doesn't like her. Adam thinks she's his babysitter. Marcus will probably hate her, which wouldn't be much of a surprise because he hates everybody."

"Why are you so worried about what they think?"

"Because in the end, the only one who will get hurt is Caitlin." Chase sighed. "I don't want her to get hurt."

Feeling empathy for his brother, Chad kindly reasoned, "Bro, Caitlin knows the situation. She knows what they all think of her, yet she still sticks by you. Do you think she really cares?" He gently swatted his brother on the arm. "Don't do this to yourself, and don't do this to her. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't deserve to be happy, you do. Here's a person waiting for you, ready to accept everything about you. Don't be dumb. Accept her, too, and give her what you can."

Chase had to acknowledge that Chad was right. He had no real reason to run away from someone who liked and cared about him despite his imperfections. Not that he wished to run away. Caitlin had been his friend since he was twelve. He knew he could trust her. Lately, he had also begun developing the same feelings she'd had for him since high school.

But he didn't tell her he was starting to like her yet. He actually still wasn't sure if he should.

The sound of a phone vibrating shook him from his thoughts. Chad checked his cell then smiled.

"You gotta go?" Chase beat him to it.

"Yeah. I'll see you later, alright?" The twenty two year-old rushed out of the room after grabbing his keys from the desk. However, soon after, he came back. "Don't forget, your prescriptions are ready to be picked up," he told his brother.

Chase nodded. "Okay."

Chad rushed out again, but that time he didn't come back.

Once the front door closed, Chase allowed the small trace of smile on his face to fade. 9:22 AM, the clock said when he checked again. The pharmacy would be opening in eight minutes. He got up. He should change.

Before he could leave the room, he caught his reflection in the mirror. The image his saw sunk his heart, as it usually did on days like that. He was too young to rely on medication for a steady life. Those pills were ruining him faster than anything else. He guessed he really couldn't blame Bree for frequently feeling hopeless or Marcus for being so angry. They understood the emotions that he always tried to keep to himself.

 _Stay positive, Chase. Stay positive,_ he told himself forcibly, because he couldn't afford to lose any of that beautiful Saturday feeling sorry for himself. He took a deep breath then headed back to his room to get ready.

No matter what, he would make today one of his better days.

* * *

"Ugh, I can't! He's so cute."

Jake Chambers had _got_ to be one of the handsomest human being to ever walk the earth. At least he must be, in Bree's opinion. He had those attractive blue eyes that only deepened in color whenever he smiled. He was also tall, which, though not a requirement to her, sure didn't hurt. What really sold her was his genuine kindness. He wasn't fake like those other jerks. He was nice and was a true gentleman.

Too bad he was already dating that Sabrina girl. As much as she wanted to hate her for nabbing Jake first, she couldn't. Sabrina was extremely nice. Combined with that pretty face, nice hair, and enviable intelligence, she was the total package.

It was awful.

Caitlin chuckled as she dragged her best friend away by the arm to the mall's exit. "Come on. If we stand here and stare, he and his friends will think we're creepy," she said, pushing open the door. "Let's just pine away from a distance."

Bree scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You don't know how liking someone and not getting any attention from them is like," she claimed.

Caitlin only grinned though the words hurt her. "Don't worry. I've got just the perfect solution to this," she said as they got into her car. Shutting her door once she got to the driver's seat, she dug into her purse for the item. When she got it, she hid it behind her back then smiled excitedly.

An eager smile tugged at Bree's lips. "What is it?" she asked.

"Guess."

Bree rolled her eyes, grinning nonetheless. "You know I hate guessing games."

Caitlin chuckled then handed the small golden gift bag to her. As Bree parted away the white ruffled paper, she said, "Happy 10th Friend-A-versary."

"Has it been that long?" she asked. She gasped when she pulled out a tube of lipstick then gaped at her best friend. "Where did you get this from?! They discontinued this shade last year!" she said while pulling out the cover then twisting up the tube.

"I…might have bought a few extras to stock."

"But you hate this shade. You said it washes you out."

"Yes, but it doesn't wash _you_ out. It looks gorgeous on you."

Bree grinned then hugged Caitlin tightly. Her best friend always knew what to do to cheer her up. "What would I do without you?" she said after disengaging. With warmth and sincerity, she told her, "You deserve a man who would treat you like a queen. Promise me you won't settle for a guy that I would have to hunt down if he hurts you. I want you to find a Jake Chambers, okay?"

Caitlin smiled, but for a flitting second there was hurt in her eyes. "Okay," she said. After a moment, she urged her, "Try it on! I wanna see how it looks."

"Ooh, yeah." She pulled down the sun visor then lifted up the cover on the mirror. She glided the lipstick onto her lips then, when finished, cleaned the tiny smears off the edges. Satisfied, she turned to her best friend. "Still good?" she asked.

"It's perfect," Caitlin said.

Bree smiled. She looked back at the mirror to get an in-depth look of herself. The shade really did compliment her skin tone. It made her eyes pop, too, for some reason. That was what she actually liked about it. Her emerald eyes were one of the few features she liked about herself, and anything that would accentuate it, she was game for.

Her parents and Caitlin told her not to be self-deprecating. There were so many beautiful things about her, they said, to despise herself so. Her shrink, whose office was the place she and Caitlin first met, agreed with them. Yet, it was difficult not to be negative. There were so many things she wanted to change about herself.

Her hair was one. It was way too short. She didn't have the face for a pixie cut. If it was up to her, she would grow it and dye it rose gold. That would be so pretty.

She would wear more dresses and skirts, too. She envied Caitlin because she could do it with no problem. She, on the other hand, would get stares that ranged from being weirded out to being fully offended. It was those man legs of her, she knew.

Bree sighed. She really would change a lot if she could. That would make her happy. But of course, their parents and her brother had to put Chase first. 'Chase wouldn't be comfortable with this,' 'It would be harder on Chase if you did that.' Sometimes she wished they knew how exhausting it could be to always yield to the wants of others.

She was just twenty-one. She deserved to be understood, too.

"Bree?"

Turning, she saw Caitlin watching her worriedly.

Her best friend smiled at her encouragingly. She placed a hand on her hand as she switched her foot from the brakes to the gas. "You know I'm here for you, right?" she asked. "I'm like your sister. I love you."

Bree smiled at that. "I love you, too," she said, squeezing Caitlin's hand tighter.

However, deep inside, she knew her best friend would never understand.

* * *

Leo frowned at his phone as he read the message on it. _Outside,_ it said. He continued walking and typed, _I'm on my way out._ Closing the Messages tab, he was set to pocket the phone when he caught the picture being used for wallpaper. He smiled at it. It was of his Uncle Donald, Aunt Tasha, and older twin cousins Chad and Chase. It was taken at a park, with all four of them wearing white. If he remembered correctly, it was their family picture taken from last summer.

"Been a while since I saw you guys," he muttered as he slipped his phone into his backpack instead. He had to admit, he was really excited for this weekend. His uncle and aunt usually spoiled him whenever he stayed over, and Spike always had something fun up his sleeves for the two of them to do. He was sure he would enjoy his stay, like he always did whenever he came to the mansion.

"Chase! Chase, wait!"

He stopped then turned around. Janelle turned the corner breathlessly then stopped after seeing him. With a manila folder in her hand, she walked up to him. He cocked his eyebrows at her. "It's Leo," he said slowly.

"Oh. Of course. Duh," Janelle said with a chuckle. She held out the folder, which he took with suspicion. "Gordon was wondering if you could add these to the site?" she asked as he skimmed through the pages. "He said you're better in figuring out how to edit the coding anyways."

Leo shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. When does he need it?"

"By Monday?"

His eyes grew wide. " _Monday?_ "

"I know. He said he's very sorry. He got caught up with something," Janelle said. "He would have told you earlier, but…"

Leo huffed. "Alright. I guess I can try," he said.

Janelle bit her lip apologetically. He wished she wouldn't; it made him feel guilty. Plus, little things like that made her look cuter, and they always fed his small (okay, maybe not so small) crush on her. "It's a bad time, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

"Kind of. I'm supposed to visit family this weekend."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head with a smile. "Don't be. It's not your fault," he said.

Janelle sweetly smiled back. She really should stop messing with his heart like that. "Well, I know this should be a team effort, so if you need help, call me, okay?" she said.

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna be at Seattle with my boyfriend and his family, but I should have down times. He said he would be willing to help us, too."

That was the second thing that messed with his heart: the fact that the girl he secretly liked loved someone else. It stepped on then crushed it to a pulp in that regard. He guessed that was what eighteen year-olds get for falling for twenty year-old college girls. He kept his smile on. "Sounds great," he said.

"Awesome. See you around," Janelle said. She waved, turned, and was soon gone.

Dismayed, he started to continue on his way, too. He really shouldn't let things like that ruin his weekend. It's just a girl. He was a bit too young to date anyways. Plus, it wasn't like he would never find his special someone one day. With his charm and swagger, there was no use for hopelessness.

Reaching the parking lot, he immediately spotted the familiar midnight blue car. It wasn't like he couldn't—it was his father's new ride. If that didn't give it away, his father leaning on it with a frown and his arms crossed would. "Hey" was the only word he was greeted with as he approached.

"I'm sorry I took so long, Dad. The meeting was longer than I expected," he said.

His father, only known to many as 'Donald Davenport's less successful younger brother,' stared at him broodingly for a moment. Then, his shoulders hitched. "It's alright. Not like it can be helped." Once they were inside the car, he asked, "How did the rest of your day go today?"

"Fine. I took the bus here. It went pretty well."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep." He grinned. "See, Dad? I don't have to always take the car."

Douglas smirked. "I guess not."

"By the way, are you dropping me off to Uncle Donald's right away? I forgot my weekend bag at home. Can we get it first?"

"Don't, uh, don't worry," his father said as he fixed the rearview mirror. He cleared the lump forming in his throat. "I got you covered. You have your things waiting for you there."

"Really?"

Douglas smiled the usual deceptive, unaffected, warm smile. "Uh-huh."

Leo grinned. "You're the man, Pops," he said as he strapped on his seatbelt.

"So you say."

"You know it is." As his father drove on, Leo closed his eyes. He leaned on the headrest, imagining how his weekend would go with his aunt, uncle, and cousins.

Unknown to him, Douglas was gathering whatever self-control he could to keep his anger, frustration, and longing for the child and the wife he lost a long time ago at bay.

* * *

Adam's eyes fluttered opened then widened when he saw what was before him. Toys! Rows and rows of toys! He couldn't believe it. There were so many of them! Not only that, but the aisle that he stood at was the one with the superheroes in it. Currently, the one that was in front of him was Batman.

Well, Batman wasn't really his favorite. If he was asked to choose, he'd pick Superman. Superman was cool. He was strong, had laser vision, _and_ he could fly. Batman was okay. He was strong and smart, but he was so moody. He didn't like that part about him.

He swiveled left then right to ask if he could get a toy. When he found his mother by his side, he pointed at the figure and asked, "Mommy? Can I get this one?"

Mommy smiled patiently. "Honey, you know you can't. You're still in trouble for what you did, remember?"

"But I didn't mean to do it, Mommy!" he whined. "I just thought it would be funny."

"But sweetie, it wasn't funny. That prank really upset Daddy. Spike didn't like it either."

"But—"

"Adam, what did Mommy say? What did she say about what has to happen when you do something like that?"

Adam's lip jutted out as he cast his eyes to the floor unhappily. He mumbled his reply.

"I'm sorry?"

"I have to take responsibility," he half-whined, half-groaned.

"That you do," Mommy said. "So until Daddy says the punishment is off, no toys for you."

The six year-old crossed his arms petulantly. This wasn't fair. He was just trying to cheer everyone up, but they got mad at him instead. How long would they be angry?

His lips quivered as tears pooled in his eyes. All he wanted was that Batman toy. If they waited too long, someone else would buy it, and he would never find it again. Then all he would have to play with were those dumb Superman ones that nobody even liked.

Before he could cry, his mother hooked an arm around his elbow. "How about we get you milkshake and chicken nuggets instead, hm? You're okay to have those," she said with a smile.

He sniffled as he wiped his tears away. "Milkshake?" he squeaked.

She nodded. "With whipped cream and cherry," she promised. "So what do you say? Milkshake and chicken nuggets?"

Adam thought about it. He hadn't had strawberry milkshake in a long time. That was his other favorite. "Okay," he said.

Mommy looked happy. "Okay," she said, and then picked up their shopping basket from the floor.

"I'll hold it, I'll hold it," he said, taking it from her.

"Aw, thank you, honey. You're such a helpful sweetheart."

Adam smiled. He hadn't told anyone yet, but he liked Mommy more than Daddy. He still loved Daddy, and he loved Spike, too, but he just loved Mommy a little more because she was the nicest to him. Whenever he was sad, she made sure he felt better. Whenever he was sick, she would take care of him. Mommy loved him very much.

As they headed to the register, three kids walked by them. They huddled over a Nintendo DS while tailing their mom. He stopped. He was going to ask if he could see what they were playing, but he decided he shouldn't. So he didn't. He kept following Mommy.

Other kids his age didn't like him. None of them ever wanted to play with him. He guessed it was because at six, he was taller than all of them, even children older than he was. He didn't think they were jealous, although some of them may be. They probably just mistake him as an adult.

It would get sad sometimes when he didn't have anyone to play with, but it wasn't too bad. Spike usually played with him, and his girlfriend would, too, whenever she came over. Daddy and Mommy also took time out of their days for him, and he liked that. He liked that very much.

While the lady at the check-out rang what they bought, Adam noticed a card on the floor. He picked it up then read the name on it. "T-Tasha Dav-Davenport." He looked up at his mother who was searching her wallet frantically for something. He held it towards her. "Mommy."

Mommy looked at him then the card. She sighed in relief. "Oh, I really thought I lost it. Thank you, sweetie," she said. "I wouldn't have been able to drive without this."

Adam smiled, happy to help.

"It's $23.17," the lady said.

Mommy took out seventeen cents and twenty-five dollars from her wallet.

The lady gave her two dollars back. "Have a good day," she said with an insincere smile.

While they were walking out, Mommy gave him the change she received. "Keep that with you, okay? That's in case you get hungry in the future and you have nothing else with you," she said.

Adam folded it neatly then hid it safely in his pocket. "Okay."

Mommy smiled. She opened the trunk of their car then asked politely, "Can you please help me put these in?"

Adam nodded. "Okay."

He took the plastic bags from her and was going to load it when he suddenly blacked out.

* * *

The bulbs in the detention cell buzzed with a steady, indifferent current. It had been grating on his nerves. He thought it would be better than having his teenage cellmate who reeked of Bacardi and washed-down weed talk his ears off, but he was wrong. It was worse.

He wanted to get out of that place. It was getting so deathly boring. They _have_ to let him out. They couldn't hold him there without proper evidence anyways.

He smirked at that. Not that they ever would – he knew how to get rid of any evidence. He wasn't some amateur. He was only caught tonight because he tripped.

That annoying piece of wood. He should've stomped it to bits when he first saw it.

A loud clank alerted him to people coming. That was why he hated being in a cell. The visitors made him feel like an animal in a zoo. They always stared at him like he was a freak. If he didn't mind prison, he would grab those people by the collar and yank it like the savage they so desperately wanted him to be.

Surely that would be amusing, seeing them writhe against his grasp while screaming in fear. It would be like in those videos that people find so laughable.

Two figures, both men, came into his periphery, cutting his musings short. He didn't look at them, only buried himself further under his hood. If they needed him, they would call him.

"Hey. Davenport. Your guardian is here." Officer Delaney, based on the baritone voice.

He exhausted a breath. "I don't have a guardian. I'm thirty-two."

"Quit it. He's right here. You're only getting out because of him."

Marcus looked at them. He grinned mischievously at the rich man. "Daddy," he said playfully.

Donald Davenport only glowered in silence.

"I'm leaving you two for a bit. I'll be back after completing the release papers," Delaney said.

"We appreciate your hard work for the public, Officer," Marcus called after the policeman in a sarcastically polite tone. It only fell on deaf ears. He snickered.

After a moment, he turned his attention to his 'visitor' who still appeared as unforgiving as he did when he came in. He smirked but said nothing. He only leaned back.

"You being angry is something that I can understand," Donald finally spoke. "But to drag us? Drag _Chase_ into this? What kind of—"

"Did they serve good wine tonight at the gala?" Marcus asked, chipping off some spray paint residue from his finger. "I'm a little curious, since I wasn't invited."

"What—"

"Was it as good as the one you had the day Chase and Leo were taken?" he asked, looking at him straight in the eye so he could watch him suffer.

As he expected, the blow landed. Donald continued to glare, but there was hurt underneath it now.

 _That's what I thought._ Marcus crossed his arms and then closed his eyes. "Let's not all pretend we care, alright? Don't pretend you're way better than I am, too. Between the two of us, I've helped your son more than you ever had," he said.

Donald scoffed. "You call this helping? You had him _arrested._ "

Another smirk pulled on Marcus' lips. He looked at Donald then pulled off the hood from his head. "He's used to being kept in cages, don't worry," he said calmly. Venom was always best delivered that way, after all. "At least this time, he's with half-decent people that don't have odd fascination with children."

"You keep harping on what happened fourteen years ago—"

"Oh, what, it's been too long that it's not valid anymore?" he fired.

"I'm not saying that it doesn't make us any less accountable for it," Donald said, "but all of us are trying to move on. _Have_ been trying to move on. Chase is working hard to live his life as normally as possible. He's doing his best not to let that…that psychopath have any more control over his life, yet here you are trying to reverse all of that! Because what? You can't let go like him? How old are you again? Thirty-two? Aren't you getting sick and tired of all of this? You keep holding onto what happened and using it as a club to hurt the ones trying to help. You're calling us out, saying we're just pretending to care, but as I see it, you're the only one pretending here. You act like you care about Chase and want to protect him, but in reality you're just using what happened to him to charge up the anger that you so love hiding behind."

Marcus seethed. Liar. He was a liar, just like everybody else. "He hates you," he said. "He just doesn't say it, but he hates you."

Donald shook his head. "He doesn't. I know _you_ hate me, but my son doesn't," he said sternly.

Marcus glowered at him, his balled up fists trembling in rage. How would he know how he felt? How dare he even _assume_ how he felt? He wasn't the one who had to put up a fight against those memories. He wasn't the one who had to fend for himself and another kid all those months. He just lived life like any other big shot billionaire with a picture perfect family who had no care in the world.

But he knew better. Just like everyone else, he had skeletons in the closet.

"I will _always_ hate you," he told him quietly, clearly, coldly—and those feelings would never, ever change.

* * *

Dr. Adina Saleh consulted the file sent to her one more time before closing it. She had only been a psychiatrist for a few years, and though she had been and was still eager to have more patients to help, she had to admit that the sudden downpour overwhelmed her a bit. "I'm really happy for Dr. Reddy that she finally decided to retire," she told the couple sitting opposite her, "but she kind of left me slightly struggling here."

"We're sorry," Donald said, holding Tasha's hand a little tighter. "We know you're swamped, but our son would only be comfortable if he's with the same doctor his best friend is with. He doesn't trust anyone else."

"It's alright. I understand," she said with a smile that only brought out the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. "It's not a problem, honestly. This is what I've been hoping for, actually. I wanna be able to help. Right now, I just need cooperation from the patients' family members. Can I expect that from you?"

"Definitely," Donald said.

"We want to be able to help our son in any way we possibly can," Tasha agreed.

"Fantastic," Dr. Saleh said. "Now, tell me a bit about your family. You two are married, right? May I ask how long it's been?"

Donald chuckled. "Oh, um, twenty years."

" _Twenty_ years."

"Yes."

She grinned. "Wow. That's wonderful! When's the twenty-first?"

"Not until next year. January," Tasha replied.

"Beautiful. So you really got to watch Chad and Chase become the handsome men they are today, huh?"

Tasha chuckled. "I did. I've always loved those boys as my own."

"Beautiful. That's beautiful," Dr. Saleh commented. "Now, Mr. Davenport, I hope you don't mind me asking, but it's just for reference: Chad and Chase's biological mother…"

Donald shook his head. "Left us when they were one. She ran away with one of the scientists I hired. Never came back after she found out she couldn't get any money from me."

"I'm sorry."

"We were, too, but," Donald smiled at his wife, "because of that I met someone much better."

Dr. Saleh smiled at the two. _Good family life,_ she mentally noted. "I'm happy to hear that," she said. "Now tell me about the twins. Do they get along well?"

"Yes, they do. They used to fight a lot when they were younger, but…" The grin on Tasha's face waned into a small smile. "After Chase was taken, his brother started being more considerate of him. He looks after him more also."

"Does Chad feel guilty about what happened?"

Tasha nodded. "All of us do," she said quietly.

Dr. Saleh understood. She still remembered the incident. She was twenty at the time it first appeared on the news. Though she knew it would be difficult for them, she prompted next, "Tell me about that. Tell me what happened."

Seeing the expression on his wife's face, Donald braved to speak instead. "It was fourteen years ago, when the twins were just eight. We've just moved into our house—we moved out of it ten years ago—, and we decided to have a party for the children. No one's birthday, just a party. We thought the boys and their cousin would like it. We invited some of their friends and their parents and some of the children in the neighborhood and _their_ parents so the kids can all meet. The party also doubled as our housewarming, so there are other family and very close friends there."

Donald smiled sadly. "We were actually kind of surprised because the boys were all for it. They decided to make it a superhero-themed party. Leo, their cousin who was four at the time, asked if he could dress up as Iron Man. Chad and Chase always acted like big brothers to him, so they supported him. They dressed up as superheroes, too. Chad was Batman, and Chase was Spiderman. It was really cute. Leo was a little worried other kids would make fun of him, so his dad—my brother—wore a Superman t-shirt so he won't be so nervous about his costume. Tasha and I did, too, wore superhero shirts, just to help. All of us just kind of did it so the kids wouldn't feel so awkward.

"We didn't realize something had gone wrong until later on that afternoon. We took turns watching the children, so we honestly thought our kids were all accounted for. Then we realized that the kids wearing the Iron Man and Spiderman costumes weren't Chase and Leo. It was two other kids who just had the same costumes. We looked and looked for them, but they were gone. Chad said that Chase and Leo went down the street with some other kids, but they hadn't come back. Two hours later, Douglas, Tasha and I were losing our minds. The police got involved immediately.

"We searched for months. I spent all the money I could to keep it going. My brother barely slept at all; he poured himself into helping the cops search for the kids. It even got to the point that we were searching the lakes and docks and beaches for dead bodies. At that point, we really just wanted to find them.

"Then, five months into the search, a tipster pointed the police to a house in Dixon. The guy demanded to see a warrant, but there was a funny smell in the house and the sound of a child crying that they busted in.

"They found Chase there, in the basement, with a seven year-old girl and a three year-old boy. They were in their own separate cages and were very malnourished. That… _sadistic_ man kept them down there all those months. He's had the girl for a year, the three year-old for about seven months. Chase was the newest. Taylor, the little girl, said there had been others, but the man who held them captive took them two by two. He would tell them later when they asked where the other were that he took them to a better place."

Tears of pity and anger spilled from Donald's eyes. "My son couldn't even speak for weeks," he said. "The police said there were no signs of sexual assault, but whatever happened there scared him so much that for two straight years, he would wake up screaming from a nightmare. He wouldn't eat. We had to beg him to. He rarely talked.

"We suspect it had a lot to do with his cousin. He did tell us eventually that they were there together for the first three months, but that monster took him and an eleven year-old girl out of their cages one night. He said he never saw him again after that."

Donald shook his head after drying his tears. "At first, we tried getting him to talk a bit more about what happened so it could help in prosecuting their kidnapper, but then we noticed his mood would change. He talked and acted completely differently."

"Different personalities came out?"

Donald nodded.

"Who was the first one you met?"

"Bree."

"The twenty-one year old girl."

Donald nodded again. "Chad was the first to meet her. It was the day of the funeral, and she didn't want to go. She said she didn't have a dress to wear."

"You said a funeral?"

"Our nephew," Tasha said.

"Leo."

"Yes."

Dr. Saleh's brows furrowed. "According to my file, Chase has an alter named Leo," she stated.

"He does."

"Alright. Tell me about your nephew first. What were his parents like?"

Donald answered. "They loved him. His mom used to go to the same high school my brother and I went to. They used to date, she and my brother, and I think they would've stayed together if her parents didn't have her move to New York with them. Douglas was devastated when she left.

"She came back five years later, though, but with a three month-old born out of wedlock. She had a horrible life in New York with her parents who were both, as we found out later, abusive. She came back here to start over. Douglas still loved her, so after months of coaxing and dating, he married her and adopted Leo. He loved those two with all his life.

"Then, two years later, they found out Helène had leukemia. She tried her best to fight it, but it was too strong, and the treatment was too late. Before she died, Douglas promised her that he would take care of Leo.

"And he did. He gave everything he could for that kid. But then that guy got him, and my brother had to bury another person he cared deeply about."

Dr. Saleh nodded solemnly. "How does the Leo alter act around your brother?"

"Fine. He treats him like Leo would have."

"How does your brother feel about it?"

"He pretends everything's fine," Donald admitted, "but I know it's tearing him apart to be reminded like that."

"Does Leo come out often?"

"Every few weeks or so."

"What about Bree?"

"Depends on the situation. We expect her when Chase gets too frustrated, sometimes when Caitlin is around."

"Bree thinks Caitlin is her best friend, right?"

Donald nodded.

"What about Adam, the six year-old?"

"He usually comes when we're out shopping," Donald said.

Dr. Saleh smiled at Tasha. "From what I heard, he really likes you," she told her.

Tasha chuckled. "I think it's because I keep bribing him with junk food."

Dr. Saleh grinned. "Well, I've got a seven year-old. I'll tell you, it works," she said. Then, more seriously, she asked, "What about Marcus? What can you tell me about him?"

Uneasiness quickly became visible on the couple's face. "He's always angry," Tasha said. "Whenever he sees Spike, he picks a fight with him."

"Spike?"

"Chad. Just a nickname we have for him," Tasha explained. "Then, when he sees me, he just glares at me. He doesn't say anything, and that scares me more."

"What about you, Mr. Davenport? How does he view you?"

"He can't stand me," Donald said, remembering the conversation Marcus and he had just a few days ago. "He hates me the most. He blames me for everything that happened."

"Has he hurt you before?"

"Yes, once – but it was an accident. He was going to go at it with Chad, but I jumped in between them. He was aiming for him, but I pulled his arm away so he ended up hitting me in the face."

 _Anger towards Chad Davenport._ "What about Chase? Had he ever hurt him?" Dr. Saleh asked.

"Twice," Tasha answered, "but he didn't do it himself. He just got them from random fights that he started."

Dr. Saleh nodded. "Bree is the self-harmer, right?"

Tasha nodded. "Yeah. She cuts when she gets depressed," she admitted brokenheartedly. "My baby gets depressed, too, but he doesn't do it."

"Okay." Dr. Saleh believed she had enough to add to her personal notes. They could stop there. She didn't want to keep pressing when it was apparent that the memory and its effects were still raw and still hurt them very much. What she didn't know and would need as a reference, she would just ask Dr. Reddy later.

She took a deep breath then released it. "Well, as Dr. Reddy had probably already made clear, Chase's condition may take a long time to treat. It may never be treated at all. Dissociative identity disorder is really tricky, but if we work hard we can try to deconstruct the four other personalities and combine them to one. It may be hard, but it's not hopeless." She checked the calendar on her desktop. "Chase told me he can come in at 10:30 AM next Wednesday, so I will see him then."

Donald and Tasha stood up with a smile, glad to find a physician who would take him on in such a short notice. Donald held out a hand. "Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Saleh," he said.

Dr. Saleh shook it. "Not at all, Mr. Davenport. I'm only happy to help," she said. "Thank you both for agreeing to see me."

"Of course," Tasha responded appreciatively. After exchanging one last round of goodbyes, they left.

Dr. Saleh returned to her desk once they were gone. Picking up the file sent to her, she pored over the details written on it and mapped out her mode of approach. Chase Davenport was a charming young man albeit slightly morose. She could see his determination to reclaim the normal life that was taken from him, and that was always a good start. Attitude was very important to the process.

She closed the folder then sighed. Then again, could she really help him? She wasn't sure. She didn't know how successful she would be, but she would certainly give it a try. The kid had always been willing to give it a shot, so she could meet him halfway at the very least.

For now, though, she would just keep his case filed away safely until next time. There were more things to learn and even more to keep to herself for the moment—including the suspicion she had that could just unlock what really happened to the twenty-two year-old and his four year-old cousin that afternoon ten years ago.

* * *

 **Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID, is also known as Multiple Personality Disorder. In this story, Bree, Leo (the eighteen year-old version), Adam, and Marcus are all just Chase's 'alters' or other personalities.**

 **Reviews and constructive criticism is appreciated.**


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